Superfriends
by Alien Explosion
Summary: [one shot] Bennet, Matt, and Ted on the road to New York City. Getting there’s half the fun. Set after “.07”


_**Note: **__Just…randomness. Or, what I would want in a Heroes spin-off. Written mostly as an excuse to procrastinate, be fangirly, and include stupid meta references for kicks, hee._

**Superfriends**

Now, Ted Sprague was fully aware that he and Matt Parkman had been through a whole hell of lot together these past few days. Quite honestly, if he didn't already know what would happen, he'd probably take a bullet for the guy, just because Parkman had been so loyal and looked out for him so much.

But there was a line to be drawn for all things, and this, _this_ just crossed a mile over.

"Parkman, get the hell off of me!" he said, angrily shoving the dozing ex-cop off of his shoulder. "You try to spoon with me again I swear I'll melt your damn face off!"

"Hey!" Matt exclaimed, now fully awake, "Ted, _you're_ the one who wanted the window seat. I have nothing to lean my head on, so if I happen to intrude on your personal space, I'm _so _sorry-"

Matt was interrupted by a kick to the back of his chair. _Shut up, both of you, _came Bennet's thought.

"He says to shut up," Matt repeated irritably.

"Then tell him to come over here and be your drool canal if he wants me to shut up so much."

"Hey, first of all, the whole telepathy thing is a one-way street," said Matt, "and secondly, I _don't_ drool, so shut it."

"Whatever," Ted replied nonchalantly. "I'll bet your wife says otherwise."

"Damn it, Ted, I do not-"

Another kick. _Haven't you two ever heard of a seat partition? Use it and shut up!_

Sensing Bennet's annoyed stare at the back of his seat, Matt pulled down the armrest between himself and Ted, crossed his arms and gazed out into the aisle, pissed off and unable to sleep again. Having to hang out with Ted and moderate his temper for the better part of the last week was bad enough; being the whipping boy just because Matt _wasn't_ an edgy nuclear son of a bitch was really pushing it. He kind of wished he'd listened to Ted and left Bennet in his cell. …Then again, that would've entailed listening to Ted. And how marvelously did that work out last time?

Bennet was getting a headache, and he wasn't even sitting _next_ to the idiots. He'd never worked with anyone so juvenile. Lord, not even Claire and Lyle ever bickered this much during trips, although this was mostly due to the merits of 20th century technology as a distraction. He wondered if he was going to have to buy iPods in Dallas just to get Sprague and Parkman to stop bickering

Matt turned around in his seat. "…iPods?" He asked, puzzled.

He received a glare in reply. _Go back to drooling, Parkman._

Matt turned back around, pissed off as hell.

He hated road trips.

* * *

Two hours into the trek, the bus stopped at Abilene to pick up more passengers, take a bathroom break, and, seemingly, to remind the passengers what the world outside of a sardine packed Greyhound was like.

"Hey," Ted nudged Matt, as they stood outside the dingy Petro sipping soft drinks, "you got an extra dollar or two on you? I almost have enough for a CD player."

"Bennet gave you money?" Matt asked.

"No," Ted answered simply. "Let's just say that the Pepsi machine busts easily."

"Ted, you _stole_ from the Pepsi machine?"

"I think uh, my hand was leaning on it see, and you know how hot my hand gets sometimes…"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Geez, I can't believe you, Ted!"

"Hey, haven't _you_ ever stolen anything?" Ted asked. Matt's head hung. Yes, and it actually cost several million dollars more than the Pepsi machine.

"It's called playing to your strengths," he continued. "Gonna need it when we save the world. Anyway, I think I saw those wrap-around neck pillow things inside. I could buy you one if you want, you could sleep easier on the bus."

Despite the amoral behavior, Matt could see that Ted was genuinely trying to be a little more civil after their little argument. Which was nice, but his suggestion wasn't a very appealing one. "I don't plan on sleeping the rest of the way, so you don't have to worry about me sleeping on you again."

"Oh thank _God…_" Ted sighed with relief. Gee, thanks, Ted.

Just then, Bennet walked out of the convenience store, holding a bag. He reached inside and handed a Time magazine to Ted, and, hilariously enough, one of the said wrap-around neck pillows to Matt. In fuchsia.

_Use these to keep yourselves entertained, _he thought to Matt, giving them a smartass kind of stare and then turning around to go back to the bus.

Oh, that was _it_. "Hey, I know we're trying to be incognito and all that, but you don't have to keep issuing orders through me," Matt shouted at him, and added sarcastically, "Mr. Middle Management."

Bennet turned around and approached them again, a decidedly non-intimidated look on his face. At last, he said, "So Matt, how _did_ you score 30 points lower the _fifth_ time you took the detective's exam?"

At that, Matt was ready to dropkick that stupid smirk off of Bennet's face, the same one the guy previously used during the SWAT team debacle at Primatech. Ted incredulously found himself as the sane one this time, trying to keep Matt from strangling the ex-paper salesman.

"Parkman!" said Ted, holding the big guy back. "Hey, hey, man, come on! It's not worth it, back off. Come on."

Bennet, thank God, dropped the smirk, and said, "It's another three hours to Dallas, and from there a four hour flight to New York. You really want to fail at bringing down the Company just because you weren't focused?"

"You just insulted me, asshole," Matt pointed out.

"I did that to get it out of my system," he retorted, "I suggest you two find some way to do the same, now You're not exactly helping us keep inconspicuous."

"We _could_ be inconspicuous if we just kept in separate seats and wore disguises or something," Ted suggested, sincerely bewildered at his newfound peacekeeper role.

"Well, if you two would just shut up and stopped making this difficult, we won't have to go to all that trouble," Bennet snapped. Matt got the strange impression, however, that Bennet just didn't want to resort to getting them all new disguises or bleaching his hair blonde. Especially if the supplies were going to come from the Petro.

"Just be silent on the bus, and I promise I'll get us separate seats for the plane," Bennet told them, feeling a lot like he did whenever he tried to bribe his kids into submission. It was only worse that he was saying this to two grown men.

"Alright, cool, that's fine," Ted agreed, looking over at Matt anxiously. "Parkman, how does that sound?" He sort of felt like Maury Povich right now. It felt fairly awkward.

Matt sighed warily. "Fine. Get on the bus, stay silent, save the world. Got it."

They got back on the bus, which managed to get considerably more cramped. A noticeable scowl appeared on Bennet's face; the empty seat that had been next to his was now occupied by an old woman.

So the bus was now crowded, they still had three more hours, and he had just been told to use the ugliest pillow in the world to keep himself occupied. _God_, Matt thought as he sat down, _I have to find another distraction._

Suddenly he caught a hold of thoughts, and grinned. _That'll do nicely.  
_

* * *

Three hours later, Ted was in the middle of an article on the pharmaceutical industry when he looked outside his window and saw what could only be the city limits of the Dallas-Fort Worth metropolitan area. Factories, shopping malls, F-150s on either side of the bus, beer ads on every other billboard…civilization at last.

Smiling, he looked over at Matt. "Hey, we're here! That means we're like halfway to NYC!"

"Oh," Matt replied simply, an oddly serene look on his face. "That's nice."

"Geez, you look disturbingly happy," Ted noted.

"Getting there's only half the fun, Ted," he answered optimistically, sitting back and listening to his own entertainment:

"…I spy, with my eye, something that is…lime-green."

"Do you really."

"Come on now, you have to guess what it is! Guess! Come on! This one's a toughie!"

"…Your suitcase."

"Ooh, yes!! Wonderful job, young man! Here's your prize!"

"Great."

"You know, you look bored with this game. Want to look at my vacation album again?"

_If I could douse it in gasoline, set it ablaze, stuff the ashes into my eardrums and plunge the metal hooks into my eyes, then_ certainly_, ma'am, I'd love to. …God, I miss my gun._

Matt couldn't take it anymore. Wearing the most unbearably cheerful grin he could muster, he turned around in his seat. Bennet was in an irritable stupor, looking in severe need of sedation. A mountain of taffy candies, his 'prizes' from I Spy, sat in his hands, while the old hippie woman was currently opening up an enormous photo album and dropping it into Bennet's lap, making him wince with discomfort. Matt's grin got wider, and Bennet stared at him darkly.

"_What, _Parkman." He said, annoyed with the man's attempt at Greyhound espionage.

"We're in Dallas!" he said happily. "Just think, only one more hour to go!"

Bennet's look turned into incredulous anger. "One more _hour_?"

"Oh, you know it's a big city, we're in rush hour traffic, and plus, we're still in Fort Worth. It'll easily take us another hour before we reach the exit in Dallas."

"Ooh, just enough time to go though my album!" the hippie woman squealed. "I've got a _delightful_ story about Santa Fe!"

"Can't wait to hear it," said Bennet, settling into his suicidal stupor once again.

"Neither can I," Matt added, sitting back comfortably.

Road trips were the best.

**The End.**


End file.
